The Yellow Wallpaper 2: The Story of John
by discovery17
Summary: Please, read the original story "The Yellow Wallpaper" by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. This story describes what could possibly happen next.


**The Yellow Wall-Paper: The Story of John**

 **(based on Charlotte Gilman's "The Yellow Wallpaper.")**

 _Now why should that man have fainted?_

 _But he did, and right across my path by the wall,_

 _so that I had to creep over him every time!_

 _Twelve weeks later…_

I don't remember the past several weeks. Every day it's getting worse. I have to write… Jane would laugh at me. I wonder how she is doing. Why does it take so long for her to get better? Why can't I see her? I don't understand how this could possibly affect her treatment. I miss her so much!

Jeannie is here, thank God. She visits me every day. She is taking care of the baby. I feel awful: I am a bad father. I must be. I feel the baby is better living with Jeannie and not seeing me much. She will tell me the town news. I haven't been to work for a long time… days, maybe weeks. The last time when I saw George he said the practice was doing alright and I could take a break and have some rest. I have to go… She can't see me writing. I am not allowed. That would be embarrassing…

Jeannie left, thank God. Another uneventful visit that I needed. Now I can go back to the room… that room. Jeannie does not let me in there but I need it. I have to: It reminds me of Jane. It will help me think of her for the next several days before I see her doctor. Maybe he will finally let me see her. Who am I kidding?! He will say the same thing: Jane is not ready, she is making progress but the recovery is slow and she needs a lot of rest.

I used to love our garden, large and shady, full of trees and flowers. Now it's all gone, even the roses by the window. The barren trees must be cold. The wind brought dark heavy clouds and it's about to rain, or even snow. The winter is coming and the thought of losing sunshine is driving me crazy.

It's getting darker. And I hear voices… the voice. I think it's her. She is calling me. She must remember me. She must be thinking of me. She loves me. Only in this room, I can hear her. The room is different, spider-webs everywhere, blue-painted walls; I liked the yellow wallpaper but now it's gone. Jeannie does not know I have the spare key.

It's dark. I stare at the wall. Is there a movement? Perhaps, a shadow. But there is no moonlight. It's pitch-black. I can't see but I feel as if someone is looking at me from behind the wall. I feel like I am drowning but I happily surrender. The voices grow louder… the voice. I am falling and there is no way out. Am I asleep? Do I see her? Again? Can't be: I know what happens next. "John…" – I hear her voice from a foot away but I am too afraid to move.

I thought I was dreaming the first time it happened. Then it happened again. Now I know how to control it. Jeannie will leave and I will go to the room with the dark-blue walls. I will hear her voice and feel her presence inches away from me… I have to see Dr. Mitchell today. I can't wait for two more days. She needs me and I need her. I will insist. I won't leave without seeing her!

The psychiatric center is a tall building on the hill. Patients must be able to see the blue ocean from their wards. That, and the sky for miles and miles away. Dr. Mitchell's office is on the top floor. He always makes me feel better when I talk to him. His confidence is soothing. I know my fellow doctors all too well yet I can't resist. I like it. Yet I feel miserable when I leave: another week, another excuse. Why am I wasting time? I need to talk to my colleagues and find a way to get her out of the dreaded asylum. Surely, I should still have some connections left.

Dr. Mitchell reassures that Jane is making progress. He seems to be more concerned about me. Jane needs more rest and so do I. I can't see her. But I have to! I feel dizzy, the room is spinning around. She won't forgive me if I go back to the house. I will see her. I will. Her picture. Her medical record. It must be there. It's too hot in here and the voices are unbearable. I realize that I hear the voices for the first time outside of that room. Is that her? I don't recognize. It's too loud…

Why is Dr. Mitchell lying on the floor? I am sorry I must have spilled his coffee. Why is he not moving? I had to get the chart. I don't care. Is it blood behind the back of his head? I will see Jane's picture and then call the police. …Did I do this? …I have not seen her in what feels like eternity. Why did Jeannie have to remove all of our pictures from the house, all of Jane's pictures?

The medical record is thin, a dozen of pages at most.

"Patient # 011892."

"John Gale."

"Diagnosis: Anosognosia, Schizophrenia."

"Wife: Jane Gale (deceased/suicide)."

The letters are jumping. I am suffocating. I want to go to that room and hear her voice. I want to see the blue. I want to disappear in that wall. Someone is knocking on the door. "It's locked" – I can't recognize my voice. I need air… They are opening the door… They will lock me up and I will never see her again. I need to run. The window. The only way out. …Broken glass is cutting my hands, my face. Winter air… For a second, I can see the ocean. It's getting dark… Why, it's too early in the morning… People stop and look at me, lying on the pavement.

"John…" – I can hear her inches away from me. The smile. Janes is smiling it me. I missed you so much. Now I need to rest. Snowflakes are peacefully falling down my face. Jane is creeping over me. My beloved Jane…

4


End file.
